A Funny Thing Happened on Rachel's Half-Birthday
by bluecinderella4
Summary: Based on an episode of "The Mary Tyler Moore Show": Rachel Berry is celebrating her half-birthday and an unlikely series of events are going to help make it a half-birthday she'll never forget.


**Gonna forgo any basic new fandom introduction and tell you the gist of what you're about to read: this fic features characters & things from **_**Glee**_ **adapted to fit around an episode of** _ **The Mary Tyler Moore Show**_ **( _'Mary the Midwife'_ which is the first episode of season 7—I believe you can watch it on YouTube).**

 **Consider this a kind of AU story by the by.**

* * *

Kurt was waiting backstage for Rachel to finish her local public access show when an angry Santana charged backstage like a bull ready to attack a red cape. He also couldn't help but notice her holding a tray of baked goods. "Another day, another drama," he muttered to himself before stopping Santana. "Okay, calm down, Snixx; tell Uncle Kurt what the problem is this time."

Santana momentarily backed down. "Santana Lopez does not take kindly to being insulted, especially on camera."

Kurt couldn't resist a barb. "So what'd they get you on: your personality, your morality, or your not-so-subtle enhancements?"

"Get back to your tree and make cookies with the other elves."

"Oh Honey, you're off your insult game today. Who said what and why?"

"It's that douchecock Berry's got on her show!"

"You mean the dietitian?"

"Today I thought I'd be nice and bring in some of my Abuela's baked goods that I'm trying to get rid of. Then the so called 'doctor' says what he says and I realize I never should have been nice to begin with. Dr. Douche-Little in there had the nerve to make a comment about the baked goods he saw in the green room and how no one should eat them."

"Right, and how is that insulting to _you_ exactly?"

"It's insulting to my Abuela. You insult my family, you insult me. And like I said: Santana Lopez does not take kindly to being insulted."

"The guy wasn't trying to be insulting, Snixx. The producer booked him to talk about the dangers of becoming overweight and how that kind of food is prone to doing so. Honestly, it got me thinking."

"That'd be a first."

"Ignoring that," Kurt continued while also ignoring Puck make his way down the hall, "the doctor was talking about how the cholesterol in that food can clog the arteries and block blood flow; he said that kind of stuff could kill a person."

Santana stopped Puck by holding the tray at him. "Here Puckerman, have a pastry."

"Thanks," Puck gladly took one. "All that crap that douchenozzle was saying made me hungry."

Kurt raised a brow. "So what he said didn't really have any effect on you?"

"I don't really think that jerk-off knows what he's talking about. He's probably saying all that stuff because his mommy doesn't let him eat junk food." He shoved another sweet into his mouth. "This is good."

"Thank you," Santana thanked. "And FYI, this is low-calorie cooking. A lot of those other desserts everyone brings in has 750 calories."

"So what makes yours so low-calorie?" Kurt asked.

"These only have 740 calories. Plus Abuela tends to water the vanilla."

"Puck, there you are!" Rachel came running over to him.

Puck tried to prepare himself for what was sure to be on a verbal list of Rachel's many tech demands. "Rachel, I told you, I checked everything twice. There was, and is, no microphone issue."

"Okay, but-"

"And I'm sure you'll tell me what 'special spotlight' you want for tomorrow's show before I go, so I'll rig it up in the morning."

"I actually have a list of special spotlights, but that's not why I'm looking for you." Rachel looked around. "I was actually hoping I could talk to you and Quinn together; is she still coming by?"

"She's on her way over; today was her last appointment with the baby doctor."

This elicited some excited noise from Rachel. "That's right, she's almost due."

"She better be. I mean I've put up with the huge stomach, but I don't know how much longer I can go without the…" he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

This garnered a "Gross," from Kurt.

Santana's response, however, was, "Wanky." Then she watched Puck's ass as he headed for the control room. "Boy's still got it."

Rachel noticed the tray Santana was holding. "What are _those_ doing here?"

"An early half-birthday treat from me and my Abuela."

"While I appreciate the gesture, I must respectfully decline the desserts. I mean after hearing everything that doctor said, and additionally dieting and exercising for a good three months to get the exact measurements for my new party dress, I'm not gonna put any more fat on my body."

"I wouldn't worry: it'd all go to your head anyway."

"And she's back," Kurt commented under his breath.

Rachel was too busy glowering at Santana to notice. "Well, after that insult I should un-invite you to my half-birthday tomorrow."

"Oh no, whatever will I do if I can't go to Rachel's party?" of course Santana was being sarcastic. "I shouldn't even go anyway, what with the wife and kid sick. The only reason other people will show up is to pity you."

"That reminds me," Kurt began, "Blaine's got to work a double shift tomorrow so he can't make it."

"Oh no," Rachel was genuinely upset. "You're still coming though?"

"Naturally."

"Yay!" Rachel hugged him.

"Hey, did you talk to Mercedes? She back in town yet?"

"Yep! She just arrived this morning. She's officially coming to the party tomorrow and she said she might even drop by the studio later."

Santana groaned as she rolled her eyes. "Please tell me your stupid party wasn't the reason Mercedes returned to Loserville."

"If you must know: Mercedes is back in town because her nephew's first birthday is this Sunday and she promised she'd be there to celebrate with her family. Thankfully, my half-birthday is tomorrow, a Friday. And she'll probably be in the studio to watch you film your opinion segment for the Channel Seven news."

"Ugh, does everyone have a dumb birthday thing this weekend?"

"That last part of that statement doesn't please you?"

"I don't need an audience to give me feedback on how awesome I truly am."

"Bitter Santana aside," Kurt gave Rachel another small hug, "happy half-birthday eve, Doll."

"Heads up Hobbit, Tubbers is here," Santana informed Rachel of Quinn's arrival.

"Quinn!" Rachel ran over to Quinn and acted as a sort of spotter. "How are you? Is everything alright?"

Quinn gave her a small smile. "Do you have to ask me that every time you see me?"

"Sorry; from an observer's point of view, it looks like you're struggling to stand up and can fall over at any moment."

"I still have a center of balance, Rachel. I'm pregnant, not fragile; but I would like to sit down."

"Here," Kurt had a chair ready and helped her sit in it. "So how'd the appointment go?"

"Everything looks good, right on schedule, and we can expect an appearance from Baby Fabray-Puckerman within the next two weeks." As Kurt and Rachel both opened their mouths, Quinn cut them off, "If I told you guys once, I told you a thousand times: Puck and I are keeping the sex of the baby a surprise."

Rachel let out some sort of disappointed noise. "But that's no fun for _us_. How are we gonna know what to shop for?"

"You never once thought of shopping for anything gender-neutral?"

"Again, no fun. Ooh, can I do this one old-wives tale where-"

"Rachel, no! How many times do we have to tell you we want to be surprised? Can you please respect our decision?"

"I suppose," Rachel begrudgingly agreed. "But I wouldn't have told _you_."

"Oh come on, Preggers is obviously carrying a girl," Santana stated matter-of-factly.

Kurt scoffed at her. "You don't know that."

"Uh, yeah, I do. I know the obvious signs, I know the little tells, and I haven't been wrong yet. I told Brittany we were having a boy before the doctor confirmed I was right. Plus players like Puck usually end up being fathers to little girls."

"Okay that's not necessarily true—Alfie had a son. Since Quinn got pregnant, Puck's stepped up his game and turned into a...somewhat better person."

"He really has," Quinn agreed. "Puck's the one who's asking all the questions in class, he's read through all the books at least twice, and oddly enough, he's even convinced the baby's a girl. And I know I shouldn't say this, but he likes to sing to the baby."

"Aww," Rachel and Kurt couldn't help but swoon.

"Ack!" Santana couldn't resist making the gagging noise.

"Don't tell him I told you," Quinn reprimanded.

"Don't hold your breath."

"Santana!"

"How can I not share that information?"

"I knew I shouldn't have told you."

"Is it safe to assume Puckerman wants to name your bastard offspring after one of the songs he sang to it?"

"He does seem partial to the name Beth; he's convinced the baby gave some sort of response to the song too."

"Ew, Puckerman's gone soft."

"Ixnay on the Uckpay," Kurt gestured to the man making his way down the hall toward the gang. "Hey Puck."

"Hey losers." Puck noticed Quinn. "'Sup Baby Mama." he gave her a quick kiss.

"Hello, Noah," because she had been greeted with a name she didn't particularly care for, Quinn did the same with Puck.

Rachel excitedly clapped her hands together. "Good, you're both here; now I can give you my present." She eagerly reached for something in her pocket. "Ta-da!" Rachel proudly presented a stopwatch as her present.

Puck held up his wrist and pointed to the watch he was wearing. "Ta-da," he didn't match her enthusiasm when he mocked her, opting to sound more sarcastic.

"This isn't a watch." Everyone gave her an odd look. "Okay yes it's technically a stop _watch_ , but I bought this for a purpose. I thought it might be easier to use this to time Quinn's contractions when she goes into labor."

Puck held up his phone. "I think there's an app for that."

"Yes, but what if something goes wrong with one of your cell phones? It's always best to be prepared. And it's so easy to use. Santana," Rachel handed Santana the stopwatch, "try it."

A small, somewhat evil smile was on Santana's face. "Okay everyone: let's time how long it takes for the gnome to say something stupid."

Rachel let out an indignant gasp. "That was rude!"

"Four seconds!" Santana dropped the stopwatch back in Rachel's hands. "That thing really does work." She left with a triumphant smirk on her face, acknowledging the upcoming person with a pat on the shoulder before leaving.

"Mercedes!" Rachel threw herself into her old friend's arms.

"Hey Girl!" Kurt was the next to give her a hug.

"Eh, what the hell," Puck even gave her a brief side hug. "Welcome back, 'Cedes."

But as Quinn struggled to stand up, Mercedes stopped her. "Ah, ah, ah, I'll come over to you." Mercedes gave her a hug.

"It's good to see you, Mercedes," Quinn patted her back. "It's been a while."

Mercedes gestured to Quinn's swollen stomach. "I'll say."

"How's the record biz treating you?" Kurt inquired.

Mercedes shrugged. "Nothing new, just makin' demos, trying to get some airplay."

"Well you look still good anyway."

"Thank you," Mercedes noticed the tray of treats. "Ooh, speaking of looking good." She took the tray. "I'm gonna take these and eat in the break room. Then maybe we can go for an early lunch?"

"Followed by some shopping for the party?"

"Damn boy, you read my mind." Mercedes sampled an eclair as she headed to the break room. "I think somebody watered the vanilla."

"Party?" Quinn was visibly confused. "Are you guys having a party?"

"Don't worry about it, Babe," Puck tried to brush this off. "It's just some stupid dinner party for Rachel's half-birthday crap."

"You knew about it too?"

"Why would we wanna go to Rachel's pathetic little party?"

"Hi, yeah, _Rachel_ , right here," Rachel brought attention to herself. "I'm gonna take a little blame for this. I thought with the baby coming you should probably stay home."

"When the baby comes staying home is all I'll be doing," Quinn pointed out. "My chances of going out are becoming more and more slim—no fat jokes, Noah," Quinn knew that was coming before Puck could even open his mouth. "Once I have the baby it's gonna be hard to have some adult fun—no suggestive comments, Noah."

He shot her a look of awe. "Damn, Q, how do you do that?"

"Are you sure you really wanna come?" Rachel asked.

Quinn silenced Puck before he could say anything. "Please. It's either your party or another night of my boyfriend loudly playing _Super Mario Brothers_ ," she shot Puck some sort of glare.

"I offered to let you play, didn't I?" Puck reminded. Quinn pointed to him giving a ' _see what I have to put up with'_ look to Rachel and Kurt.

Rachel couldn't help but let out a small giggle. "Of course you guys can come."

"Thank you." Quinn snapped her fingers and Puck helped her out of the seat. "See you guys tomorrow."

Kurt watched Puck escort Quinn out with his hand on her back. "It's like she's got him trained. Hashtag, so married."

"Basically," Rachel agreed.

"I don't know about you, but that early lunch sounds fabulous right now. Any suggestions or should we let Mercedes pick?"

"Kurt," Rachel didn't know how to phrase her next query delicately, "do you think Mercedes has put on a little weight?"

Kurt's eyes practically bugged out. "Oh, no! No, I don't want any involvement with women and weight."

"I just can't stop thinking about what that doctor said. I just don't want Mercedes to become overweight, that's all."

"Do not talk to her about her weight, Rachel."

"I just…I..."

Kurt sighed. "I am going to wait outside for the two of you—provided Mercedes will still be speaking to you after this." As he walked away, he finished off with, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Once Kurt was out of sight, Rachel went over to the break room where Mercedes was eating one of the sweets. "Hello Mercedes."

"Hey Rach," Mercedes greeted back.

"Let me just start by saying that you will always look good to me."

Mercedes shot her a confused, somewhat creeped out look. "Thank you?"

"Please note that everything I say, I say as a friend."

"Oh-kay."

"When I saw you take those baked goods I had to come in here."

"Oh," Mercedes held up the last eclair. "You want one?"

"No, I came in here to talk to you," Rachel sat in the chair across from her. "On today's show, my guest was a doctor who was talking about the dangers of being overweight and how some people might not know they're in danger of that happening. Don't you think that people who care about those overweight people should tell them?"

Mercedes shot her a look. "Not necessarily."

"How come not necessarily?"

"Subtlety hasn't always been one of your strong points, Rachel. You think I'm fat."

" _Fat_ is such a harsh word. I wasn't necessarily gonna say-"

"Before you say anything else: I suggest you leave, come back, pretend you're gonna talk about our plans for the day, and we can still be friends." Rachel fidgeted in her seat not wanting to budge. "Be smart, Berry."

"I'm not trying to be rude, or mean, or anything but-"

"You know, I do care about my appearance. I also have feelings. Right now it feels like you're insulting me."

"I'm not being insulting. I'm merely helping you notice some of your flaws."

"Okay, then let me help you with some of _your_ flaws."

"This may sound self-centered, but I don't have any-"

"You sure about that Big Nose?" Rachel let out another indignant gasp. "Miss 'Thinks She's So Perfect'. Tell me, how can a girl as small as you have such a big nose? Does the size of your nose match up with the size of your ego?" Rachel bit her lip and tried to look away. "You want me to lose some weight? Fine. I'll lose some weight, you lose some teeth. You must have about fifty or sixty of 'em."

Rachel tried not to turn into a blubbering mess. "Well, you have felt some need to hurt me for trying to help you. So I won't respond by insulting you. It's natural when some people are hurt for them to say things they don't mean." Rachel stood up.

"Ugh, I hate it when you get all classy like that."

"How very unfortunate."

Mercedes sighed. "You're not gonna drop this subject unless I drop a few pounds?"

"I only ask because I worry about you."

"Fine," Mercedes pushed the tray away. "Starting today I fast; I won't eat anything until I meet your weight standards. Is that what you want?"

"Well, I actually wanted to ask you where you wanted to go for lunch." When she noticed an irate Mercedes beginning to stand up, Rachel screamed and ran for dear life.

…

"I thought Precious was showing up tonight?" this was Santana's way of asking why Mercedes hadn't shown up to Rachel's party the following night. "Tiny must've really pissed her off."

"She and Kurt are getting the food," Puck informed her.

"Thank God, I was afraid we'd have to eat Berry's nasty cooking." Santana noticed Quinn sitting beside Puck absentmindedly rubbing her stomach. "Hey Mamacita, you alright? You're not about to pop or anything disgusting are you?"

"I'm alright," Quinn assured. "Some days the baby chooses to be more active than others. Today I think it's trying out for a soccer team."

"Yeah, well I didn't want to come," Puck made that point clear. "Not just because Rachel's parties suck—they do unless there's booze—but I tried to keep Quinn home after she had those...Toni-Braxton contractions earlier."

" _Toni Braxton_?"

"I forgot the technical name."

"I think Puck is referring to the _Braxton-Hicks_ contractions I had earlier, and those were essentially nothing."

"Besides, there was no way I was gonna win the argument to stay home."

"Damn right."

There was a knock on Rachel's door. "That's probably Kurt and 'Cedes with the food." Puck stood to get the door.

"No, no, I'll get it!" Rachel practically glided into the living room, even doing a quick twirl to show off her new party dress (and showing off her dress was probably the reason for her answering the door). When she opened the door, Kurt and Mercedes were there with each of their hands full of food. "Come on in guys." They made their way to the table. "Looks like dinner's served." Mercedes set the food down and went toward the living room. "What are you doing?"

"I thought I'd be bored sitting watching you _thin_ people eat," Mercedes was still stung from Rachel's remarks. "I figured I'd put on some TV."

"Are you going to keep this up all night?"

"Of course not," Mercedes flashed an obviously fake smile. "You ought to know that fat people are jolly."

"I think that answered Rachel's question," Kurt remarked as he sat at the end chair across from Rachel. "Don't be a party pooper, 'Cedes, come eat." With a sigh, Mercedes went over to the table.

"I'm actually kind of impressed with Little Miss Big Mouth telling it like it is," Santana was referring to Rachel as she sat next to Mercedes. "It shouldn't be my responsibility to be the only brutally honest person in our group of ' _friends_ '," she air quoted the last term. "So, kudos to you, Berry."

After helping Quinn sit, Puck took the open seat beside her and carried on the conversation. "I give props to you too Mercedes. It takes a bigger woman to-" Everyone glared at him. "I didn't mean that as a comment on your weight. I just meant-"

"I know what you mean," Mercedes interrupted. "Thank you anyway, Puck."

"Well," Santana looked at the food spread, "this meal certainly looks healthy and unappetizing."

"Then don't eat it."

"Are you kidding? I'm starving." Santana took a big helping of the main course.

"I think the food looks good," Kurt complimented.

"Sure does," Puck agreed.

Mercedes looked at the spread on the table. "What to choose?" She looked toward the vegetables. "Probably whatever's the most healthy to please Queen Rachel." Mercedes reached for a carrot. "Rachel, do you think a single, raw carrot would put any more ugly fat on me?"

"Not if you stuck it up your nose," Rachel responded under her breath.

"Excuse you?"

"I didn't say anything."

"She said 'not if you stuck it up your nose'," Santana casually told everyone.

"Oh," Mercedes set the carrot on her plate. "The problem with that is the carrot wouldn't fit up _my_ nose. Rachel's nose, however-"

Rachel slammed her hands on the table and stood up. "Okay, you know what…"

Thus began a verbal Diva-off between Rachel and Mercedes. Clearly enjoying this, Santana even tried to join in. Soon, Puck stood up and argued with Santana trying to get her to stop.

This went on for almost a full minute before Kurt intervened with an "EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" loud enough to stop the screaming matches. However, aside from the arguing, Kurt had another reason for ushering in the quiet. "Quinn, Honey," he had noticed Quinn grimace and clutch her stomach at some point during the fighting, "are you alright?"

"Yeah, Q, you like kinda pale," Mercedes observed.

Puck knelt to her level. "Babe?"

Quinn shooed him away. "I'm fine, really. It's indigestion."

"The hell it is," Santana disagreed. "Puckerman, get her ass to the hospital _now_."

"I'll go get my stopwatch!" Rachel ran to her room to get said stopwatch. "Okay," she returned rather quickly (as if she had the stopwatch ready), "tell me when the next contraction starts."

"Guys, really, everything's fine," Quinn kept trying to assure everyone. After she let out a deep breath, she sat back as if nothing happened. "See, it's stopped now; nothing to worry about."

"It kinda seems like you're having contractions."

"Well if they are the real deal, they're too far apart. My doctor says I should go to the hospital when they're at least ten minutes apart."

"Okay, if you're sure. Do you need anything?"

"Some fresh air might be a good idea. Rachel, do you mind if I sat on your balcony for a minute or two?"

"No, go right on ahead."

"I'll go too," Puck helped Quinn to her feet and started leading her toward Rachel's balcony.

"Oh here, you're probably gonna need this."

"Uh, no, we probably won't."

"Puck, wait!" a persistent Rachel followed them outside with the stopwatch.

"Well that certainly made the night more interesting," Santana commented.

Kurt nodded in agreement. "I don't know why it is, but everyone always seems to get so excited about the last stages of pregnancy."

"Getting excited is how you get to the first stage."

He let out an annoyed huff. "Every time."

"That's a good point," Mercedes then quickly corrected herself with, "not Santana's thing, Kurt's thing. Labor gets everyone anxious and hyped up when the key is to actually stay calm. Getting all crazy isn't the best thing to do when a woman goes into a labor. I learned that with my brother's wife. She had been having contractions on and off, nothing serious. Of course everyone gets all crazy worried and the stress intensifies the labor that we have to have a home birth. My brother was so freaked about seeing a baby come out of his wife's nether-regions that I was the one who actually delivered it while he kept her elevated and talked on his phone with the paramedics at the same time."

"Wow, I didn't know that."

"That's why it's so important for me to be at my nephew's birthday; I get to share in the anniversary of him coming into the world because I helped bring him into it."

Puck returned to the dining room. "Relax people, everything's cool."

"Uh, aren't we short a few people?"

"Yeah, Rachel's helping Quinn in the bathroom with somethin' and then Q's gonna lay down for a while."

"So you're sure everything's okay?" there was some worry in Kurt's tone.

"Didn't I just said everything's cool? I even called the doctor to be safe and she agreed there was no rush. She said not to be surprised if this drags on for days."

"She's obviously been to one of Rachel's parties," Santana snarked.

"Heard that!" Rachel called from her bedroom.

"Big nose, big mouth, big ego, and apparently big ears; it's a wonder she's so small."

…

Not too later in the evening, the gang decided to watch a movie while Quinn got some rest. While Rachel went to check on her, Puck went through Rachel's movie cabinet. "Is there anything in here that _doesn't_ have Barbra Streisand or Judy Garland?" He continued to browse. "Is it legal for a person to own _these_ many musicals?"

"How 'bout a Disney movie?" Mercedes suggested.

"How 'bout no? That's probably all I'm gonna be watching when my kid comes, so I'd like to avoid those movies while I can."

"I dunno," Santana sounded like she had more to say, "your kid's probably coming sooner than you think."

"Doubt it. The doctor said those Braxton-Hills contraction things are normal."

" _Hicks_ , Puckerman, hicks; like the rednecks."

"So tactful," Kurt muttered before taking another sip of his drink.

"Okay everyone!" Rachel entered the living room. "Did we decide on a movie?"

"Apparently no musicals and no movies with the names Barbra Streisand, Judy Garland, or Walt Disney attached to it."

"And no chick flicks either," Puck added.

"I uh...I don't think I have any movies like that," Rachel admitted.

Puck slammed the cabinet shut. "Screw it; let's just watch whatever's on TV."

"So Pixie, how's Preggers?" Santana inquired.

"She's fine," Rachel assured them. "Quinn's just resting; contractions are twenty minutes apart. So what are we gonna-"

"Hold up, I'm confused," Kurt was recounting what Rachel had just told them, "you're saying her contractions are twenty minutes apart?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

Rachel looked at her stopwatch. "Sure am!"

"How many contractions have there been altogether?"

"Ten, I think."

"Ten?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure there have ten."

"Well if there have only been ten, how can they be twenty minutes apart when we've been here barely over an hour?"

Rachel did the math. "Oh." And suddenly it dawned on her. "Oh!" She stared at the stopwatch. "I paid two bucks for this thing!"

"Do you not know how labor works?"

"I really don't!"

"Rachel," a pale looking Quinn was standing in the hallway clutching her stomach, "remember when we were on the balcony and we thought I peed my pants?"

"Uh-huh," Rachel was afraid of what was coming next and secretly hoped Quinn wasn't going to say-

"That was actually my water breaking," and there it was.

"Nah-uh."

"I told you to take her to the hospital earlier," Santana felt the need to bring up.

"We'll play 'Santana was right' later," Kurt was trying to keep his calm as he took some charge. "The important thing to do now is keep calm. Someone will call your doctor, we'll all help make sure you get downstairs in one piece, and then Puck will drive you to the hospital."

Quinn tried to stifle an agonized groan as she tried not to collapse against the wall. Instantly, Mercedes and Santana ran to her side to help keep her up. "Shit, this hurts. Why is this happening so fast?"

"Some women have fast labors, it's totally natural," Mercedes tried to assure. Quinn screamed in agony. "Okay, things are definitely starting now."

"Well stop the things!" Puck obviously wasn't as calm as Kurt. "Quinn, can't you hold in it or something?"

Kurt gave him an ' _are you serious_ ' look. "Do you think before you speak? Make yourself useful and call the doctor." Puck nodded and did as Kurt commanded.

"It hurts to stand," Quinn gritted through her teeth.

"Come on, let's sit you down," Mercedes (and Santana) helped Quinn sit on the couch.

Despite the whole 'Quinn in labor' situation, Rachel's priority was her couch. "Should she really be sitting there with all the fluid and what-not coming out of her?"

"Is now really the time to worry about your couch?"

"Do you know how much it cost?"

"I'm sure your Daddies can buy you another one." Mercedes sat beside Quinn. "Relax, Quinn, everything's gonna be fine. We're all here with and for you."

"Some of us are _with_ you more than _for_ you _,_ " Santana wasn't much of a comfort as evident by the looks she was getting. "Oh come on, the last thing this woman needs are people lying to her while she's in total agony. She's not in a hospital, we don't know if everything's gonna be fine."

"But there are certain common sense things that should be done when someone's gonna have a baby," Kurt didn't exactly lie. "Does anybody know any of them?"

"If it's of any help," Mercedes was talking to Quinn, "I've been in this situation before and if worse comes to worst, I can totally help get that baby out of you."

Puck hung up his phone and addressed everyone else. "The doctor said because things are moving so fast, we should call an ambulance. Until then, we need to lie her down and keep her comfortable."

"Can you honestly keep her comfortable with a human forcing its way out of her genitals?" When Quinn let out another scream, so did everyone else. "Kurt, call that ambulance."

"I don't think they're gonna make it," Quinn cried.

"Neither am I!" Puck yelled back.

"What about reading all those pregnancy and baby books?" Santana reminded. "You gotta have some knowledge of this."

"That was what to do before going to the hospital! I don't know what to do if it's not at the hospital. Oh God, I need to sit down," Puck practically collapsed in the nearby chair before his knees completely buckled.

"Well he's pretty much useless," Mercedes noted. "Santana, help me carry Quinn into Rachel's bedroom."

Santana stood behind Quinn. "Okay, but I'm carrying her from the top end." Together, she and Mercedes carried the mother-to-be to Rachel's bedroom.

"I gotta go in there," when Puck went to stand, he almost fell over. Thankfully, Kurt had finished his phone call and helped the father-to-be to his feet. "I can do this; my baby mama needs me." He staggered into Rachel's bedroom.

"Quinn is going to have her baby," Rachel tried not to be upset. "In. My. Bedroom."

"Look on the bright side, Rach," Kurt began, "at least she's not getting her fluids on your couch." Rachel let out some sort of noise of annoyed displeasure.

Santana raced out of the bedroom. "Did one of you losers call an ambulance?"

"They're on their way," Kurt informed them.

"What are we supposed to do til they get here?"

Kurt snapped his fingers. "Rachel, you introduced me to that good-looking neighbor of yours in the elevator; the one who said he was a doctor!"

"Oh my God, you're right!" Rachel's happy excitement soon faltered. "But I couldn't tell you which apartment he lives in."

"Third one down the hall on the left, 925," Santana casually replied.

Kurt raised a brow to her. "How do you know that?"

"You honestly expect me _not_ to know where any good-looking doctors live? I'll go get him."

"No you won't! It'll be much faster if _I_ get the good-looking doctor."

Santana shrugged. "Suit yourself: you're not his type anyway." Kurt flashed her a sneer before hurrying out of the apartment.

"Santana why are you out here?" Rachel questioned. "Shouldn't you go in there and help? You had a baby."

"No, no, no, _Brittany_ had the baby; I made sure I wasn't going anywhere down south. You go in there, it's your bedroom!"

There was a loud scream coming from said bedroom. "You're crazy if you think I'm ever going in there again." *THUD* "What was that?"

"I'm not gonna find out." The girls watched as Mercedes carried a blubbering Puck into the living room. "Well this sight certainly has my interest."

"Oh my God, what happened?"

Mercedes set Puck on the couch. "I took off Quinn's pants to see if anything was happening, I said she was starting to crown, and I guess Puck wanted to see. Next thing I know, he's on the floor."

"I wanted to help," Puck had lost all cool at this point. "I really thought I could help."

"You did fine, Puck. I'm sure Quinn appreciated the 'Yo Mama' jokes."

"Ugh," Santana scoffed, "why does he always tell those stupid jokes when he's nervous?"

"Is now really the time to focus on that? Right now I'm gonna need someone to get in there to help me!" After Santana ran into the bathroom, Mercedes then directed her attention to Rachel.

"You're not fat!" Rachel was going to try whatever tactics she could to not go in there.

"Time is running out, I need someone in there with me."

"I'll go get Kurt."

"Rachel, the best people for situations like these are women."

"Or certified doctors."

"You have to help get your bedroom into a makeshift delivery room."

"A delivery room is no place for a woman!"

"Rachel!"

"Mercedes, I-I-I-no. I don't know what I'm doing."

"I do, and I'll help you."

"B-b-but I-I-"

"You can redeem yourself by doing this for Quinn. Now let's go." Mercedes pushed a frantic Rachel into the bedroom.

When she was sure the coast was clear, Santana came out of the bathroom. Just as she made her way into the living room, Kurt entered the apartment alone. "Uh, whoa, hey, where's the good-looking doctor?"

"Completely useless," Kurt replied. "The doctor's a P.H.D. in economics. He did suggest boiling lots of water and setting up a trust fund for college."

"What good is that gonna do?"

Following another scream, Rachel ran out into the living room. "Good, you're back!" she hurried over to Kurt. "Did you find the doctor?"

"He's not a medical doctor, he can't help us," Kurt told her.

"What about the ambulance?"

"I don't know how far they are from here."

"They gotta come! They gotta come _now_! Quinn...the baby...pain...blood! So. Much. Blood."

Mercedes stood in the bedroom doorway and grabbed Rachel's arm. "Nurse Rachel, you're needed in the delivery room."

"Help me!" Rachel managed to cry out before being pulled into the room.

"I gotta help," Puck wobbled as he stood up. "I'm goin' in there." When Quinn let out another scream, Puck fell to the floor. Kurt and Santana immediately went over and helped sit him back on the couch. "Why didn't anyone warn me childbirth is Hell?"

"Yeah, for the one actually birthing the child!" Santana snapped at him. "Man up, Puckerman! Get in there!"

"I can't! I can't go back in there! Not after what I've seen!"

"Dammit Puckerman, you could not have picked a worse time to be a useless ball-sack right now!"

"Alright, enough!" Kurt was mediating again. "No more fighting! We have to do something!" Kurt protested.

"Hasn't Puckerman done enough?"

"We all can't just stand here doing nothing."

Santana sat on the chair beside the couch. " _You're_ the only one standing."

"Guys, our friend is giving birth in Rachel's bedroom!"

"And that's probably the most exciting thing that will ever happen in there."

"I mean, there has to be something more we can do. A baby is being born in the next room and we're not doing anything to help; we're not taking any responsibility."

Puck meekly raised his hand. "I take full responsibility."

"God you're terrible people," this was a way to admit defeat as Kurt just sat on the couch and did nothing as a louder, more painful sounding scream encompassed the apartment. "So should we just turn on the TV or-"

Kurt was interrupted by a new sound. The sound of a newborn crying. As everyone got up to get closer, a relieved looking Mercedes came out of the bedroom. "Everything's fine; Quinn's fine." She went over to hug Puck. "Congrats Puck. You're the father to a beautiful, healthy baby."

Puck smiled. "I am?" As Mercedes nodded, Kurt and Santana gave Puck congratulatory pats on the back. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

Mercedes sucked air through her teeth. "I probably should've checked that before rushing out here. All I know is the baby's here, it's healthy, and it's beautiful."

"A kid with Puckerman's genes _beautiful_?" snarky Santana was back. "I doubt it's human. I think I'll judge the kid for myself, thank you," she went into the bedroom with Mercedes following.

Kurt then gave Puck a hug. "Congratulations, Papa."

Puck backed off. "What am I being congratulated for? For chickening out and not being there for Quinn in her hour of need." Puck let out a dejected sigh. "She'll probably never wanna see me again."

"Puck," Rachel made her way into the living room, "Quinn's asking for you."

"Are you serious?"

"She wants the baby to meet her daddy."

"Her?" Rachel nodded. "So it's a girl?"

Rachel let out a little laugh with another nod. "Yes Puck; a beautiful, healthy baby girl."

Kurt pushed Puck forward. "Go on; go see her."

Puck tried not to cry as he smoothed his clothes. "How do I look?"

Rachel smiled at him. "Like a father." She then watched as Puck proudly stumbled into her bedroom.

Kurt went over to hug Rachel. "Rachel, I'm proud of you too for being in there."

"Kurt, that was the most amazing thing I've ever seen. I can't believe I almost missed it." She clasped onto her necklace that bore her late boyfriend's name.

"It will happen for you too, don't give up hope."

"I know. I just...I just hope it happens sooner rather than later. I guess my biological clock's catching up with me." Rachel cleared her throat. "Come on, let's go see the baby."

"Hold on, I wanna look good too," Rachel laughed as Kurt fixed his hair and straightened his tie. "Now be honest, is she really one of those ugly babies?"

"None of our friends have ugly babies. But if you're wondering, she looks like Quinn."

"Oh, thank God for that," they shared another laugh before joining their friends in the bedroom.

…

"Here," Mercedes poured Rachel a drink as the paramedics tended to Quinn, "you and I both earned this. Cheers," they clinked their glasses together.

"Listen, Mercedes," Rachel struggled to find the words to say, "I really am sorry if I upset you about your weight. You're one of my best friends, and I was just worried about you. I probably shouldn't have let that doctor's words get to me the way the did."

"I know your intentions were good, and I'm sorry I reacted the way I did."

"No, you were right, really. And I do mean it when I say that you're beautiful no matter how you look."

"Thank you, you are too."

"And I am so beyond proud of you for taking charge in there. Maybe you should consider a career in child-birthing."

"I don't know if I'm comfortable getting all up in a some strange lady's business. It's different when it's someone you care about."

"Okay, fair point."

"Hey, did Kurt and Santana leave already; I didn't get to say goodbye."

"They left while you were cleaning yourself off. Don't worry, I said goodbye for you."

"Hello ladies," Puck joined them in the kitchen.

"Hey Daddy."

"Wow, that name feels weird in that context."

"Is making an awkward sex joke you're only reason for being out here?" Mercedes questioned.

"I actually had a legit reason for coming out here. So listen, there's absolutely no way Quinn and I can ever repay you for what you did; but I thought you'd like to know that we're gonna try."

"By buying me new sheets for my bed?" Rachel inquired.

"Don't get so greedy, Berry. Mercedes, Quinn and I decided to make you the godmother."

Mercedes placed her hand over her heart. "Aww, thank you."

"What about me?" Rachel asked. "Can the baby have two godmothers?"

"No, but we came up with an alternative we think is best suited for you," Puck told her. "I don't know if Quinn told you, but if we decided if the baby was a girl, we'd name her Beth."

"She might have mentioned something like that."

"Well, Beth needs a middle name to go with her."

Rachel was getting teary eyed. "You're gonna name her after me?"

"You guys kinda share a birthday, why not kinda share a name? By the way, do we really have to celebrate these half-birthday things or-"

"No," Rachel assured him with a laugh, "the half-birthday is just me being selfish."

"Yeah, I figured; I mean who honestly cares about that half-birthday crap. Oh, and thanks for loaning Quinn your bed for the whole birth thing."

"My pleasure, I guess."

Everyone turned as the paramedics came out of the room wheeling Quinn on the stretcher, newborn Beth sleeping soundly in her mother's arms. Before leaving, Quinn asked the paramedics to stop so she could address Rachel. "Thanks for the party Rachel, we had a wonderful time."


End file.
